


Croce sul Cuore (Cross My Heart)

by Lady_Vibeke



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Ava speaks Italian, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Italiano | Italian, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 03:05:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15063653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Vibeke/pseuds/Lady_Vibeke
Summary: Prompt: "I need a fic or something with Ava knowing Italian.. Sara finding it hot (all though we all do) and it getting steamy."ORSara catches Ava speaking Italian and demands to be seduced in Italian, even if she doesn't understand a word of the language.





	Croce sul Cuore (Cross My Heart)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Taylor Templeton](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Taylor+Templeton).



> Taylor Templeton over at the Avalance Facebook page posted this prompt and I couldn't resist. The translations for the Italian parts can be found in the notes at the end of the story.  
> Please, be aware that I absolutely CAN'T write smut, so this is probably going to be terrible. Read at your own risk.

When Sara had stepped out of the bathroom to find Ava on the phone, she had wrinkled her nose in disappointment. She was naked under the towel and still damp from the shower: what she had expected was a _hot_ welcome from her girlfriend, not a curt, vague gesture to keep quiet while she went on rambling in gibberish.

Sara's eyes flared. How _dare_ Ava not even take a glance at her? Stupid work, stupid workaholic girlfriend. Ava was going to regret this unforgivable negligence as soon as Sara would get her pinned down on the bed. Which was going to be soon, or so she hoped.

She was about to walk back into the bathroom to start by herself, when she suddenly realised that the reason why Ava sounded so weird was because she was, in fact, not speaking her usual language.

“La cosa migliore sarebbe contenere i danni. Avete già contattato la sezione Svizzera? Molto bene. Dobbiamo tenere sotto controllo…” 1

Ava’s voice faded as Sara’s brain froze, something warm and sparkly tugging at her stomach. _Was that_ …?

“La ringrazio per il riscontro, Agente Martinelli. Mi tenga informata su eventuali sviluppi. D’accordo. Arrivederci.” 2

Sara swallowed, mouth dry, and walked to Ava as casually as humanly possible. “Babe?”

The thing in Sara’s stomach purred as Ava turned around, blonde curls floating around her naked shoulders. “Hey.”

Fuck, that tank top was Sara’s. It embraced Ava’s curves way more tightly – and sinfully – than it could ever do with Sara’s lean figure. Her eyes lingered on Ava’s distracting chest before remembering the real point.

“Was that...” Sara licked her lips, trying to erase that slight quiver of arousal in her voice. “Was that _Italian_?”

“Oh.” The hint of tension on Ava's face vanished behind a smile. “Yes. A couple of anachronisms are giving a hard time to our team in Milan and I'm trying my best to supervise from here.”

Sara swallowed again, lips pursed in a vain attempt to contain her _interest_. “You were speaking Italian.”

“I was talking to an Italian agent,” replied Ava in a ridiculously obvious tone. A light crinkle appeared between her eyebrows as she scrutinised Sara a little puzzledly. “Are you okay?” she asked, brushing a few wet locks behind Sara’s ear. A tickle of pleasure bolted through Sara’s spine from below her waist.

“Yeah,” she said absentmindedly. Her mind was _way_ ahead of small talk. “I mean, no!” She stepped back and gave Ava an offended pout: “How did I not know you speak Italian?”

Apparently unaware of Sara’s inner turmoil, Ava giggled: “I'm sorry. I forgot to mention that in my Girlfriend Material application.” With laughter still lingering in her eyes, she moved up to Sara and folded her arms around her waist, then pulled her close to herself, grinning fondly: “Just so you know, I'm also fluent in German and Mandarin.”

Sara tried – tried so hard to stay focused and be mad at Ava for keeping such a relevant secret from her – _Italian_. Ava spoke _Italian_ and never bothered to inform Sara! – but how could she be remotely mad when she had the most amazing person to have ever graced time and space right in front of herself, looking at her like the whole universe was in her eyes?

Sara’s hands ghosted past Ava’s hips to rest on her ass – really, one of their favourite places to be. “Fuck German and Mandarin,” she murmured, rising on her tiptoes to brush the tip of her tongue over Ava’s lips. “Gimme more Italian.” Her voice was hoarse and drenched in lust. “Now.”

Ava’s grin widened. Her gaze drifted down to Sara’s mouth and up again, piercing through Sara with a look of pure adoration. “Sei decisamente un po’ matta, Sara Lance.” 3

Sara, of course, had no idea whatsoever what those stupidly sexy words meant and she was pretty positive Ava was playing with her, but who cared?

“Did you just offer to go down on me right here and right now?” she smirked. “Because it totally sounded like you were. And, FYI,” she gave a tight squeeze to Ava’s ass and pressed her eagerly against her own hips. “If that were the case, I'd be very happy to comply.”

“I was actually questioning your sanity, but your suggestion is quite interesting.”

Sara’s slid her hands under Ava’s top, entangling over the familiar curve of the small of her back. “Seduce me,” she ordered. Or begged, she wasn’t sure.

Ava’s hands trailed up Sara’s body to cup her face, thumbs tracing feather strokes over her cheekbones, her cheeks, her lips. Lovingly. So lovingly.

Sometimes Sara felt so loved and cherished it physically hurt – a dull ache deep in her chest, where her undying sense of unworthiness struggled every day with her profound love for this incredible woman who had chosen _her_ , of all people, to be with.

As if reading her mind, Ava leant forward to place a soft kiss on Sara’s lips, and then another, and another, until both she and Sara could read each other’s smiles in every kiss.

“Can I seduce you in Mandarin?” Ava asked playfully, parting from Sara just enough to be able to look her in the eye and catch her beautifully outraged glare.

“Ew, no! Italiano, per favore.”

Sara’s Italian needed a lot of refining, which was unbearably adorable, especially for a master assassin who spoke Arab so flawlessly. Ava’s heart quivered, oozing affection and sheer awe.

Ava tugged at the towel and smugly watched it pool at Sara’s feet. “Come la dolce signorina desidera,” 4 she whispered, pulling Sara back into her arms while pinning her against the closest wall.

“Oh my god, don't stop.”

One of Ava’s hands reached down between Sara’s thighs, finding her wet and hot and so ready for her.

Sara wrapped her arms around Ava's neck and threw her head back as Ava’s fingertips teased between her folds. With a low chuckle, Ava slowly brushed her lips against Sara's ear and breathed huskily: “Potrei dirti qualunque cosa e tu ti scioglieresti tra le mie dita senza nemmeno essere toccata.” 5

Sara’s breath caught in her throat, her sight flaring white for a split second. “Yes!”

“You're so wet already.”

Ava gasped on that last word as Sara's teeth bit into her shoulder.

“Bambina prepotente,” 6 she scolded. She rubbed slow circles against Sara’s clit until she was soaked in her wetness, then, without warming, pushed two fingers inside of her, earning a delighted moan in return.

“But you… love me… as I am,” Sara managed to pant, cheeks flushed, pupils blown. She had hooked a leg around Ava’s waist and was grinding against her touch, desperate for friction – for relief. The heat in her belly was spreading all over her like a wild fire, igniting feelings she hadn’t thought herself capable of, before Ava.

“So,” Ava smirked at Sara, feigning a surprised expression – just a deliberate excuse to interrupt her ministrations and drive Sara a little closer to insanity. “You suddenly understand Italian?”

Sara dug her heel into the small of Ava’s back without bothering to be gentle. Ava’s whole person was glued to Sara’s glorious nudity and _feeling_ every single trembling inch of it. Breathless, but still remarkably lucid, Sara took Ava’s chin between her fingers and yanked her face down into a fiery kiss.

“Get those fingers back where they belong,” she hissed over Ava’s lips. “And put them to good use.”

Ava, who was tired of games as much as her hungry girlfriend, complied happily and Sara instantly arched into her touch, her breasts pressing into Ava’s through the thin fabric of the tank top.

“Avrei dovuto dirti molto tempo fa dei miei talenti linguistici.” 7

Sara's desperate moans were driving Ava as crazy as she was driving Sara with her caresses. It was a sweet torture, Sara's mouth right below her ear, panting blissfully against the sensitive skin of her neck, as Ava's thumb rubbed and teased against Sara's clit while another two fingers worked their way in and out of her in a merciless, frantic rhythm.

When Sara came, her cry was louder than usual and her breathing undeniably faster. She collapsed against Ava, falling into her embrace, heart racing, and found herself laughing – a little hysterically – as they landed on the bed next to them in a tangle of spent, shaking limbs.

“That was... you... fuck. Oh my god.”

Oh, rendering Captain Lance speechless was one of most rewarding tasks Ava had ever accomplished in her life. Slowly, she ran a hand up Sara’s inner thigh, smooth and slick, and leant forward to drop a soft kiss upon her forehead.

“Davvero eloquente, Lance.” 8

“Shut. Up.” Sara was lying on her back, chest rising and falling as she tried to regain her composure in the blissful haze of the afterglow. Ava’s hand felt hot between her legs, but all Sara wanted right now was cuddles and Ava’s husky voice whispering Italian nonsense for the rest of the night. “Wait, no. Keep talking.”

“Vuoi un altro round?” 9

Sara rolled to her side to face Ava and smiled. “Sì.”

Ava snorted, arms stretching out to cradle Sara against herself. “Do you even know what I asked?”

“Sì.”

“No, you don't.”

“No, I don't.”

The spark of laughter lingering in Ava's throat warmed Sara from the inside – a warmth she was still trying to get used to, wonderful and terrifying, something to kill and die for. But also, and especially, something to live for.

“What do I have to do with you?” asked Ava, and it wasn’t a completely rhetorical question. She was in awe of this girl – this incredible young woman who had laughed death in the face and fought nails and teeth to defy her destiny. Ava could only wish she was half as strong, half as resilient as her beautiful Sara.

And Sara – _Sara, Sara, amazing Sara_ – seemingly reading right through her, curled up into her embrace and purred like a loving cat. “Keep me.”

If there was anything else Ava had ever wanted from life, she couldn’t really remember right now. As far as she knew, all she’s ever wanted, and needed – all that’s ever mattered – Is right here, in her arms. Safe. Protected. _Loved._

And loving her back.

“As if I could ever let you go.”

She could _feel_ Sara grin, her lips stretch into a lazy smile against her collarbone, as she tangled their ankles together with a little sigh. When Sara spoke, her voice was drawled, sleepy: “Promise?”

An overwhelming wave of mad fondness washed over Ava. She loved this version of Sara: unshielded, unguarded. _Free_.

“Promesso.” Ava's fingers trailed down Sara's neck and ghosted above her breasts, tracing a criss corss over her freckled skin. “Croce sul cuore.”

“Cross my heart?” Sara guessed, sounding more and more sleepy by the minute. Ava pulled up the blankets to cover them both, nodding faintly.

“Mhm-hm.”

“Mmmkay,” Sara drawled, nuzzling her face into the crook of Ava’s neck, then yawned contentedly. “It’s yours, anyway.”

Ava didn’t try to swallow down the little lump swelling in her throat. She let the tears well up in her eyes, instead, and simply basked in the echo of Sara’s words and every amazing meaning behind them.

“Likewise, Lance,” she muttered, even if Sara was already asleep. She knew, anyway. “Likewise.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1 – “The best thing would be to contain the damage. Did you get in touch with the Swiss team? Very well. We need to keep it under control…”  
> 2 – “Thank you for your report, Agent Martinelli. Keep me updated about any development. Okay. Bye.”  
> 3 – “You’re definitely a little crazy, Lance.”  
> 4 – “As the sweet lady wishes.”  
> 5 – “I could tell you anything and you’d melt between my fingers, completely untouched.”  
> 6 – “Bossy baby.”  
> 7 – “I should have told you long ago about my linguistic talents.”  
> 8 – “Very eloquent, Lance.”  
> 9 – “Want another round?”
> 
> I know this could have been so much better, but, as I said, smut is not really my thing. Sorry.  
> All credit for the Italian bits goes to... well, me. I'm Italian. Duh. So, yeah, sorry about any typos, I proof-read this a couple of times but I always miss something.  
> I really REALLY need to go back to fluff, my precious sapphic babies deserve so much better than this. Sorry, gals.


End file.
